


I'd be a fearless leader (I'd be an Alpha type)

by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)



Series: Laura Hale is the best Alpha [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Gen, Laura Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Laura Hale Lives, M/M, Mates, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Slash, Stiles Stilinski is Part of the Pack, which I will explore in the sequel that i might eventually write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 05:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20736815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle
Summary: Most teenagers would run off if they found a bleeding half-wolf, half-lady with red eyes snarling at them. But Stiles’ fight or flight response has always been a little fucked, and Laura Hale looks like she could use a break.





	I'd be a fearless leader (I'd be an Alpha type)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clotpolesonly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clotpolesonly/gifts).

> Some wires in my brain got crossed and now when I think Laura it’s Laura Bailey even when I’m thinking of Laura Hale. So, a faceclaim thing happened. And then clotpolesonly encouraged me to run with it and almost 8k of fic happened. 
> 
> Thanks to christinesficrecs for letting me throw ideas at her until I managed to make it work. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! I managed to do the first four days of Laura Hale Appreciation Week in one fic. So, yay?

Stiles Stilinski finds out about werewolves the usual way. Because a wounded ladywolf passes out in the back of his Jeep. 

He doesn’t know exactly when she climbed in, because he’s been on an errands run for a while now, and the grocery store was just the final stop. All he knows is that the sun is shining rather brightly, his grocery bags are cutting into his hands, and there’s a bleeding woman in the back of Roscoe, snarling at being discovered. And also, she’s clearly a werewolf. 

Fangs and claws don’t exactly scream vampire. And the facial hair just reminds him of Wolverine, so he’s sticking with werewolf. And a girl werewolf too, which is all kinds of badass - they have actual girl werewolves in Beacon Hills of all places. Suck it, Forks! 

It’s impossible to try and recognize her with her face like this, but she might just be someone he knows. Who is actually a werewolf. Because apparently he knows actual werewolves now and that is both extremely cool and really fucking terrifying. 

“Fuck,” he says the word mostly because he likes the way that first fricative feels. 

The woman responds by letting out a growl - which really sells him on the werewolf thing, because there is very little humanity in that sound. It’s the sound that a cornered animal makes to sound threatening, trying to trick a predator into leaving them alone. 

So she’s alone. Don’t werewolves have packs, like wolves? How closely do they resemble wolves? Are there knots or is that just porn he’s totally never seen before no Sir not ever? Do werewolves have Alphas? Clearly they don’t just shift into actual wolves - because this girl is like a weird hybrid creature. And they don’t just shift on the night of the full moon.

It’s closer to the new moon now. Does that matter to them? Like, strength wise? 

Man, he has a million questions that he wants to ask Wolf-girl, if she ever properly talks to him. Not just growling. Though he’s sure he could understand that too, eventually. He’s smart enough, and he’s decent with languages, and…

Fuck, he forgot his Adderall, didn’t he? 

“Are you okay?” He has to ask. 

There is no way that he’d be able to live with himself if he didn’t ask. If she wants to hurt him, she will probably do so regardless of what he says. So he might as well ask, because Claudia Stilinski raised a good boy, damn it. Regardless of what Mrs. Petersen thinks. 

“Fuck, that’s such a stupid thing to ask,” he smacks himself in the forehead. “Of course you’re not okay. You’re bleeding and hiding in my car.” 

A huff that sounds almost like a wolfy laugh escapes her, and then her face starts shifting, slowly becoming more and more human, with her eyes no longer fiercely red but more of a golden brown color. She is almost smiling as the fangs recede and the weird hair disappears and he is suddenly staring into the eyes of a woman he thinks is Laura Hale. 

Laura fucking Hale - that explains a lot, right? The Hales had always been… different, and the kids were no exception. At least, that’s what he remembers from when Laura was still around. 

He isn’t sure it’s actually her. Sure, he thinks it’s Laura Hale. He hasn’t exactly seen her since she and her brother escaped town after the fire. That was years ago - about six, he thinks - and as a ten year old he was more occupied with keeping his mom from dying and when that failed, stopping his dad from drinking himself to death. 

Oh, he remembers seeing Laura and Derek Hale at the station, sobbing loudly into his father’s strong shoulder (Laura) and staring at walls like they’d have the answer to all of their problems or just like he could make them collapse with the power of his mind (Derek). Even as a fifteen year old, Derek had looked severe - probably because of the eyebrows. 

Though Stiles has no doubt that Derek Hale probably grew into his brows (and the ears). Because Laura, even though she is basically covered in blood, is kind of gorgeous in a terrifying way. He’s sure her brother would measure up to or outdo her in that respect - and geez why does that even matter, brain? Why is his mind so insistent that any second now he will find a grumpy yet supernaturally hot Derek Hale trying to find his sister? 

At least… if this isn’t Derek’s blood. Fuck, it can’t be Derek’s blood. Derek is all that Laura has left - Stiles knows there’s an uncle in permanent care at the local hospital, but that’s not all that helpful when people are dying. 

And what is up with people trying to slaughter the Hale family? Is this werewolf-racism? Speciesism? Is that a thing? Do people know about werewolves and instead of being cool about it, just murder them outright?

From what he knows of the human race, that wouldn’t be surprising. 

“I’ll heal,” Laura’s appearance would almost be pleasant, if it weren’t for the disgustingly bright red blood. “I just need a safe place to hide out. I figured a car that had the sheriff’s scent on it would be the safest I can do at this point. You’re Stiles, right? You smell like him. And you look like your mother.” 

Someone else who actually remembers his mother. It stings, still, it always will - but it’s also nice to talk to people who know what she looked like. Even after five years, when Stiles has trouble remembering the exact shape of her smile and the shade of her hair, the way her favorite dress had that little hole in the armpit but she still refused to throw it out. 

Things are more blurry now, and he hates it. Maybe Laura…

“Thank you,” he accepts the compliment as given. “She was beautiful. And yes, I’m Stiles. Just Stiles. Nothing else. So, thanks, again, for not dredging up that monstrosity my parents decided to saddle me with. It is best on dusty files where it belongs, with all of the other unpronounceable monstrosities.”

Sure, he gets that his name is a tribute to his maternal grandfather - a man he’s never met and never will. And in Poland, his name isn’t actually all that weird or unpronounceable - but he is not in Poland. And Americans are idiots when it comes to different languages, especially languages with accent marks and consonants that aren’t pronounced the way that people are expecting. Or in a location where people aren’t expecting them. 

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Laura nods, lifting up her shirt to show a pink and perfectly healed abdomen. “No passing out, no screaming, no getting a weapon.”

Would a weapon even do him any good against a werewolf? It’s not like he has any kind of silver on hand - if that even works. And, well… Laura could have killed him, but didn’t. 

“It explains a lot about Beacon Hills,” Stiles is still staring at the healed skin in awe. “And I’m going to have a million questions to ask you when you’re no longer bleeding. I’m not exaggerating. This is the coolest thing to ever happen to me - not the you bleeding, the werewolves thing. Holy shit, actual werewolves.”

Okay, that was a minor freak-out there. He is entitled to one, because werewolves are fucking legit and that’s just… legit. 

“I know right,” Laura says, just grinning at him. “I’m the coolest. And if we ever find my stupid brother, you should tell him that you think that. Oh God, you and the Sour Patch Kid meeting - that’s going to be an experience. I don’t think he’s ready.” 

Derek is not dead, as far as Laura knows. That’s good news - Stiles can be friends with two werewolves instead of just one. If he can consider Laura his friend, and he probably can because she’s told him the family secret and is joking with him instead of making him promise not to tell anyone. Not that anyone would even believe him. 

Maybe Derek is the enforcer who’s going to threaten him into submission? 

“So, Derek is okay?” Stiles still has to ask. 

“Just my own blood,” Laura is way too cheery about that. “I’m assuming he’s hiding out somewhere - because I would totally feel it if something was wrong. Perks of being the Alpha.” 

Wait, so this seemingly non-intimidating slip of a woman - if she’s over 5’5” Stiles will eat his metaphorical hat - is actually the leader of the pack? That is really fucking badass and Stiles is totally into that. He likes his women short and completely in charge of everything - Lydia Martin is certainly proof of that, and now Laura as well. 

And she’d feel it if Derek was sick or hurting? Does Twilight actually get the pack telepathy right? Because that is certainly a disturbing thought that he is not ready for. That might actually traumatize him more than the existence of werewolves. 

Wait, are vampires real?

“So werewolves do have Alphas,” Stiles knows he’s already slipping into research mode. “Like actual wolves. And there’s Betas, and the Omegas are… less appreciated members of the pack, or just lone wolves? Is that how the whole thing works?” 

Laura laughs as she takes off her bloody shirt and hoists herself into the passenger seat with ease. Stiles just tries not to look at her bra, because, well, he’s sixteen and Laura Hale is all kinds of gorgeous and how can he not? 

“I’ll tell you when we’re not so exposed,” she winks as she motions at her mostly bare upper body. “Do you have a shirt somewhere that I could borrow? Blood might be too obvious. I’ll attempt to salvage the pants later.” 

Stiles tries not to trip over his own feet as he walks around the car to root through his lacrosse gear for a not completely disgusting shirt. Which would be his favorite red hoodie that he has around in case the California night is colder than expected. But… it’s a red hoodie and Laura is a werewolf… Would that be what Alanis Morrissette calls irony?

“Here you go,” he tosses the shirt at Laura, wanting to see werewolf reflexes in action. 

Surely werewolves have better reflexes than mere humans - the ridiculously quick healing cannot be the only advantage there. Well, the healing and the magical pack bond that he’s still a bit iffy about. 

“I would ask if this was a joke,” Laura rolls her eyes at him, “but I can smell the rest of the clothes in this car and I don’t even want to get near those. I have a sensitive nose, and body spray and crusty boy sweat aren’t my favorite combination.” 

Okay, well superior sense of smell is a go - which is kind of… invasive? 

“Well then you should probably stay away from all teenage boys,” Stiles rolls with the self-deprecation as he hops back into the driver’s seat. 

“Maybe I’ll make an exception for you,” Laura smirks at him. “Take me home Jeeves. And when I say home, I mean your home. Because mine is… ash.” 

She doesn’t stop smirking as she says it, but Stiles just so happens to be looking at her, and he knows that’ll never be as harmless to her as she makes it sound. Those gleaming eyes dim a little, and Stiles has secretly watched many an interrogation. He knows a mask when he sees one. 

But he’s not going to call her out on it. Because he’s not that much of an asshole. 

* * *

Laura comes back down the stairs with her hair still wet, wearing some of his middle school clothes that he’d gotten too tall for. Sure, he could have found her actual women’s clothes - only he couldn’t have because Claudia Stilinski’s clothes were staying in their box until his father was ready to get rid of them. Which might be a while, still. 

“Not my best look,” she comments, shaking out her hair like a wet dog. “But I can work with it. You’re a good kid, Stiles.” 

He wipes his face, because naturally most of the water made it on there - because Laura is an asshole and totally did it on purpose. She barely smells like the cheap shampoo his dad uses - and Stiles occasionally steals if the buzz cut gets too long. 

“Tell my dad that, please,” Stiles tries to make light of it. “He doesn’t seem to believe it.” 

Laura throws herself down onto the couch next to him, all grace when Stiles usually hits his elbow on something or other when he attempts that move. He’s kind of jealous, really, and he would be dwelling on it if Laura hadn’t promised to answer his questions. 

And boy, he has many. So many. 

“I can feel you vibrating,” Laura pulls her dark hair back into a ponytail. “Just ask already. I’ve got plenty of time before Derek finally figures out where I am.” 

She is going to wish that she had never said that, but Stiles is smart enough not to warn her about that. Because here is a new friend - his third ever, after Scott and Heather, and he doesn’t really talk to Heather anymore - who is offering him all of this information. About werewolves. Fucking werewolves. 

“I don’t even know where to start,” he starts, and then the questions just start coming - and they don’t stop coming. “What kind of special powers do werewolves have? You can do the cool healing and the smelling, but are you stronger and faster too? Can you smell everything? Because gross. Do you smell a lot of gross things that people don’t want you to know about? Do you like, sniff out secrets? You should be a detective! A werewolf detective - shit that is even cooler than just werewolves on their own. Do you have a job? Are you a detective? Or something else? Werewolf model? Student? Cop? Lawyer? No, cop. Werewolves would make great cops. You should work with my dad.” 

For a beat, Laura just looks at him, stunned at the amount of words that just came out of his mouth without as much as a pause to breathe. 

Clearly she didn’t get the ADHD 101 yet, ever. Poor her. 

“Wow,” she says, and then repeats herself. “Wow.” 

“Forgot my Adderall,” he shrugs and doesn’t look at her. 

Maybe her patience is limited, and she doesn’t actually want to spend any time with a weirdo like him - she wouldn’t be the first and won’t be the last either. 

“That’s the medication I smell,” Laura appears to have a Eureka moment. “It’s really faint, and asking about that shit isn’t polite. My mama raised me not to be a rude wolf - she raised Derek not to be rude either, but she actually succeeded with me. I can use words instead of scowls and frowns.” 

The laugh is startled out of him, and Laura sits up straight when he tries to hide just how amusing he finds her. She tilts her head a little, all sass, all attitude, and waits for him to stop laughing at his ever developing mental image of her brother. 

“Right, so, your questions,” Laura continues. “We are stronger and faster than humans - our senses are stronger, that’s how you should think of it. We hear better - I’ll hear your dad coming before he even parks the car - smell better, see better… The works. And I could lift this couch with you and your dad on it without breaking a sweat. Alphas are even stronger than Betas - that pisses Derek off to no end, you have no idea. His little sister being that much stronger than him as well as smarter…” 

Is this what having an older sister is like? Having her ragging on you all the time, with so much love in her voice? 

It’s kind of how he feels about Scott, so that makes a lot of sense. He loves the guy to death, but sometimes Scott’s an idiot and Stiles just wants to look at an invisible camera like he’s on the Office. Laura clearly understands the feeling. 

And she laughs again. “I’m just imagining his face when he meets you. Gold. Actual, legit, gold. I haven’t laughed this much in ages. Thanks, kid.” 

Laura can’t be that much older than him - she was barely eighteen or nineteen when the fire happened, so she’s maybe twenty-five now. And while calling him kid once was okay, but more than once? Stiles knows he’s just a kid, but he’s not actually that immature most of the time, no matter what his dad thinks. 

“Sorry,” Laura corrects herself before he can broach the subject. “Derek used to hate that too, when I pointed out that he was still a kid. I’m just an old wolf lady who uses this to assert my authority. I learned that in my psych class. A long time ago, when I was still in college. So yeah, not a werewolf student. Not anymore. Now I work in physical therapy - I help heal you fragile humans. And take a little pain away if necessary.” 

Badass. An actual fucking badass - with ironclad control, probably. Being so close to humans without hurting them with her strength? And using her powers to help people. 

“You are the coolest person I’ve ever met,” Stiles breathes out. 

“I know,” she says, like the female Han Solo she clearly aims to be. “Not much excitement in good old Beacon Hills, huh? That’s good.” 

Good? Maybe for someone who’s used to living in a big city, where actual things happen and there are things to do other than going on hikes in the Preserve, or drinking out in the Preserve, or checking out the half-burnt Hale House… in the Preserve. 

Fuck, he’s kind of an asshole. That was Laura’s house he’s been screwing around in with Scott. It’s not inhabitable anymore, but still. There might be stuff she wants in there. Maybe. 

“It’s boring,” he argues. “If I’d known we had werewolves sooner…” 

“You would have thrown yourself into danger,” Laura interrupts him. “The life of a werewolf isn’t all badass superpowers. There’s hunters, and monsters, and rogue Omega wolves trying to kill an Alpha to become more powerful. But mostly... Hunters. They kill us.” 

Stiles makes an intuitive leap and balls his hands into fists, digging his nails into his skin to keep from shouting out loud. Because of course the fire was no accident - it has never made sense to his dad, no matter what the investigator said. 

But, hunters? Murder? Of children? Of an entire family? 

“If you’re going to vomit, please do it over the toilet,” Laura tries to sound blase about it. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says instead, trying to keep the bile back by sheer force of will. “What can I do? Did the hunters hurt you? Can I help?”

There is no way that Laura deserves all of the bullshit that she’s been forced to live through - his mother used to have Talia Hale over sometimes, for adult stuff little Stiles wasn’t supposed to know anything about. Sometimes it was as harmless as a recipe, and sometimes it was phrases of Latin, and Polish that was too complicated for him to keep up with at that age. But Talia always ruffled his hair and stopped calling him Mieczyslaw after he told her he was Stiles now. 

He’d liked her. And she didn’t deserve to die so horribly. 

“You’re an idiot,” Laura tells him, eyes wide and suspiciously shiny. “I’m telling you that this is dangerous, and you’re just ready to sign your life away.” 

Well, yes. If he can help someone, he will. If him just standing by when Laura needs help gets her hurt or killed, he will never forgive himself. He is his father’s son as much as he is his mother’s - and both of them wouldn’t let this pass without at least offering to help. 

“How can I help?” Stiles repeats, jaw set. 

“The hunters didn’t do this to me,” Laura looks down at the ground, and Stiles pretends not to see the tears. “Uncle Peter did. He’s healing, but he’s healing wrong. He was so angry at me. I abandoned him. I just took Derek and left, of course he’s mad. He’d be a better Alpha, probably. The Peter I used to know, anyway. Once he’s healed, maybe. I can figure something out. Or Deaton can.” 

Deaton? Fucking Deaton? The vet Scott was working for? 

And Peter Hale? The man still covered in burns, unconscious in a permanent ward at the hospital? Stiles had visited him once, when his mom was busy with doctors and tests and he was just too anxious to sit and wait for her. Peter was still, and lonely, and looked slightly horrifying to a young kid. 

But Stiles had said hello to him, and then just started talking to him about everything that was on his mind until Melissa McCall dragged him out of there. He hadn’t gone back. 

“If he’s trying to kill you, he wouldn’t be a very good leader,” Stiles pointedly tells Laura, while still trying to make sense of all the pieces of the story. “I get that bad stuff happened and being alone sucked for him - but trying to gruesomely murder one of the few people he still has left? That doesn’t seem like very clear thinking to me. Because you’re awesome. I bet you’re a great Alpha.” 

If he had any interest in being a werewolf - and for now, he doesn’t really think he does, if he can hang out with werewolves as a human, he’d rather do that instead - he’d probably want Laura to be his Alpha. She’s like the cool older sister he never had, and she’s been really cool about ignoring how hot he thinks she is. She’s been letting him ramble at her, and she hasn’t told him to shut up once - if it hadn’t been for his ten year plan for Lydia Martin, he might have actually fallen in love with her already. 

But maybe she can be a bridesmaid at his wedding. To Lydia. Naturally. She’ll notice him someday - soon. 

“You are ridiculous,” Laura pretends not to be touched. 

“That’s my middle name,” Stiles lets her have a moment. “Wait, no, that’s Genim. Pretend I didn’t say that. You did not hear that. This did not happen.” 

At least she doesn’t laugh at the name - he thinks the laughter is about his embarrassment, because that is the kind of person she is. He might empathize with Derek’s pain a bit at this point - maybe he’ll teach him some snark to get back at Laura with, if Laura’s impression of him is correct. Derek apparently doesn’t know how to be funny. 

“I left my phone upstairs,” Laura sighs heavily. “Could you get it for me? I think it’s still charging. But if Derek tries to call…” 

There has to be a reason why she doesn’t just go upstairs and gets it herself, but he is trying to be less suspicious about people’s motives. And also, he really doesn’t want Laura to spend any significant amount of time in his bedroom. Because one, she is too nosy and will absolutely go through the most embarrassing stuff he hides in there. Which she will be able to find because two, she has that werewolf nose and she can sniff out anything that has ever happened in that room. And that’s just embarrassing for everyone involved. 

So, just him. As always, just him. 

“Of course, Alpha,” Stiles winks at her before saluting. 

Maybe it’s a little more sloppy than he wants it to be, but it still works, because Laura continues to smile at him. She lets her eyes flash red, briefly, before he slowly makes the trek upstairs. 

Is the red eyes an Alpha thing? Are there different colors with special meanings? That is the coolest fucking thing, and he is definitely going to ask a ton more questions when he gets back downstairs. Laura still has no idea what she’s gotten herself into when it comes to his ridiculous neverending curiosity, but she’ll figure it out. And deal. 

Because she doesn’t seem to mind too much. 

Stiles skips over the creakiest step automatically now, a habit born from sneaking out when his father is asleep. He wonders if Laura is still able to hear him - how good is her hearing? Is there a limit on the distance? How does it work? Can she hear him breathing? 

His bedroom door has been left open. Seriously, was Laura raised by wolves? Hehe, that’s sort of funny and completely terrible at the same time and he can never say that to Laura - or at least not until after they’ve been friends for a while. 

Her sense of humor is dark enough to appreciate it eventually, right? 

When he steps into his bedroom, he catches an intruder. A dark-haired guy who’s maybe a half a dozen years older than Stiles is - and a whole lot more buff. And more attractive, because hot damn he looks strong and built and… severe? 

Well, guess Derek Hale grew into those eyebrows. Sort of. 

“This is private property,” Stiles pointedly stares at the werewolf climbing in through his bedroom window. “What are you doing breaking into the Sheriff’s house?” 

It is so much fun scaring a werewolf - clearly Derek should have heard him coming, but didn’t for some reason. Perhaps because he was too busy tracking Laura’s scent? Right to Stiles’ bedroom, of course. Because he’s a gentleman who let a ladywolf change in his room. And Laura’s wearing his clothes, so their scents are maybe somewhat mixed. That must be confusing for Derek - Stiles loves confusing and annoying people. 

This should be good. Laura was right - this first meeting is hilarious. 

“What did you do to my sister?” Derek actually growls at him. 

“Oh sourwolf,” Stiles shakes his head at him. “You can do better than that. You don’t give yourself away immediately. You make up a stupid excuse that people might actually believe, and you keep your claws in unless you absolutely have to.” 

That just pisses Derek off, and maybe that should freak Stiles out, but… It kind of doesn’t, because Derek still looks human except for the electric blue eyes. He isn’t even in that weird shifted half-wolf state that Laura was in when he found her. So either Derek has great control of his wolfy side, or he is just a wolfy puppy that won’t actually hurt him. 

Or both. Both is good. 

“What.” Derek lacks any and all inflection in his voice. 

“Was that supposed to be a question?” Stiles knows he’s being an asshole. “Because it didn’t sound like one, Wolfgang Von Wulfenstein.” 

Stiles is very aware that he is being an asshole, and that Laura, if she can hear this, is probably laughing her ass off from her safe position on the couch. But it’s just so fun to watch Derek’s eyebrows get more and more serious as Stiles continues to freak him the fuck out. Apparently, the fragile human can win sometimes - and it’s awesome. 

“How?” 

“Better,” Stiles nods happily at the question. “I’ve only known about werewolves for about an hour, but it’s been the best hour of my life. Other than the blood, because that was totally gross and Laura’s gonna make sure that my baby is clean once more after you guys do your little pack reunion… But yeah, this has been pretty ridiculously cool so far.” 

Derek is stunned into silence. Not much of a change from the one word questions, but Stiles still notices it, notices him. Like a lot, because it is really hard not to look at the hottest guy he’s ever seen in the flesh, just standing in his bedroom and taking in the atmosphere. And probably the scent of it, because Derek’s nostrils are flaring and Stiles is not turned on at all. Nope. 

“Are all werewolves this hot or is that just those solid Hale genes?” Stiles’ mouth opens before he’s even finished thinking it. “Guess I’m not as straight as I thought.” 

That makes Derek choke on thin air, and there is a loud thump from downstairs, followed by loud laughter that slowly gets closer and closer. 

Well, at least Laura is entertained. And Derek is blushing now, the ears he definitely grew into flushed red at the tip. The man is still discombobulatingly attractive, and Stiles is just a teenage human who is definitely going to need some alone time to think about the not straight revelation later. And lube. He’ll probably need lube. 

“I expected this to be glorious,” Laura enters the room. “But somehow I didn’t even imagine the sight of my dorky little brother to trigger a sexuality crisis.” 

The eyebrows are kind of his favorite part about Derek. He’d be too pretty, too polished, without those heavy brows that clearly do most of his talking for him. Right now he is definitely giving Stiles some WTF brows. Stiles apparently speaks eyebrow, so he totally understands. And he’d translate for the audience, but he has a feeling Derek doesn’t want this said out loud. 

Right now he’s getting several things: who the fuck are you? Why the fuck are you embarrassing me in front of my sister and Alpha? What is that smell? Why haven’t I run away yet? What the fuck is this kid saying? Great, now Laura’s laughing at me. 

He thinks that’s a decent translation. 

“No crisis about it,” Stiles is trying so hard not to be embarrassed. “Clearly, I am not upset about it. More like, intrigued. And sorry dude, we should stop talking about you like you’re not there. So, hi, I’m Stiles. Your sister was hiding in my car earlier, fangs out and everything. So I took her home, because I clearly have no sense of self-preservation.” 

Took her home? He really needs to learn when to stop talking, or that lack of a sense of preservation is going to get him killed. 

“You’re okay,” Derek is just staring at his sister, apparently needing confirmation. 

“All healed up,” Laura grins triumphantly. “Uncle Peter can’t keep me down.” 

Well, at least he’s not the only one who is suffering from a severe case of foot in mouth disease right now. Laura definitely did not mean to reveal that bit, and judging by the look on Derek’s face, that is quite a blow she just dealt him. 

“Uncle Peter?” Derek pales, and Stiles just wants to reach out to him. 

Derek looks like he hasn’t had a proper hug in ages, and if he didn’t think Derek would rip his throat out for trying, Stiles would totally go for it. But maybe Laura will - they clearly have a pretty good relationship, and they’ve managed to keep their little pack of two safe for about six years now. So maybe Laura will help him through this a bit. 

“Der-Bear, you should have smelled that,” Laura none too gently points out to her brother. “That and being startled by Stiles here? Clearly you’re not using the gifts our momma gave you.” 

That just makes Derek look even more… deflated. Is that the right word? He seems smaller now, when he was taking up so much space before. For a guy who must be like six feet tall, and twice as broad as Stiles, he now just looks… young. And sad. 

“How dare! I’m sneaky,” Stiles has to argue with Laura. “Like a Jedi I am.” 

He’s just hoping to make Derek smile, really. It’s a stupid thing to say, and pretty much blatantly untrue, because Stiles is mostly just a master of awkward flailing. He’s never been close to Obi-Wan levels of stealth and he’s okay with that. 

But his Yoda voice is awesome - even if no one appreciates it, because Scott is an idiot who still hasn’t seen Star Wars. And he calls himself a friend. 

“Oh, look, Der,” Laura is amused for the wrong reasons, “he’s a nerd like you.” 

She makes a version of the live long and prosper sign with her dominant hand and Stiles is trying to find the words to explain how wrong she is, but Derek shakes his head and Stiles knows not to bother. Laura is clearly either doing it on purpose to annoy her brother, or she is just not interested in Wars versus Trek. Or both - this is Laura Hale after all. 

By now, he’s got a decent sense of the kind of person is, or at least of the image she tries to project. Derek is easier, somehow. Hard on the outside, to hide the way his insides have been completely torn apart from the times he didn’t manage to project that hardness. 

“Guess that means Scott’s been replaced,” Stiles is only half joking. “Finally someone with decent taste. You too, Laura. Your hot nerd brother is my new soulmate.”

Laura is laughing at him, while Derek blushes in the most angry way Stiles has ever seen. 

Well, this werewolf thing is pretty awesome so far. 

* * *

Stiles is pack, now. Laura tells him it happened quickly, like they met and Stiles just kind of tethered himself to her and Derek right away. It’s been over a month and the connection has only gotten stronger since. 

Which is why they’re doing this now, when they’re at their strongest. It shouldn’t get too crazy, but Stiles is very familiar with things not going as planned by now - and not just when it comes to werewolves and hunters. Apparently there was a close call with some guy named Argent (a close call Laura and Derek kept him far away from), but that guy had departed when no mysterious deaths proceeded to happen on the last full moon. 

So they were safe for a little while. Or they will be, after this. 

Because someone has to stop the comatose werewolf on the loose from hurting anyone - Derek is so sure that his uncle doesn’t actually want to murder them all and Laura just wants to have a family member who isn’t dead. 

Stiles has brought Molotov cocktails, because he isn’t nearly as sentimental. Plus, he’s loaded his father’s gun with wolfsbane bullets. His father has been in law enforcement for as long as Stiles has been alive, and so there have always been guns on the premise - as soon as Stiles was old enough, he got the proper training to make sure he didn’t hurt himself or anyone else by accident. 

On purpose, however. He’s not a terrible shot - not a great one either. But he can hit a giant werewolf if it isn’t moving too quickly. 

If it saves his pack, he’ll do just about anything. Including lying to his father, apparently. Laura has promised him that once they deal with this, they can tell him. Derek periodically reminds her, because he likes the Sheriff - and that’s mutual. The first time John Stilinski had called Derek “son”, Derek had to make a quick getaway that Laura still mocks him for. 

Apparently Derek dislikes feelings, at least according to his sister. Stiles has yet to hear the man himself say anything substantial on the topic. 

“He’ll stand down.”

Judging by the look on Laura’s face, Derek isn’t quite sure of that. Because werewolves can hear lies and Stiles is totally not frustrated that he can’t get away with any shenanigans around them. They’ve already sniffed out the wolfsbane bullets and the Molotov cocktails, he’s sure of it. That’s probably why Derek looks so frustrated every time he gets a whiff of Eau de Stiles. 

“Alpha powers activate,” Stiles quips, trying to lighten the mood. 

Derek groans, loudly, because he’s a giant nerd who loves this stuff, really. Stiles has been expecting Derek to fall into an older brother dynamic with him, and so far that has not happened. It’s been… something else instead. And he doesn’t know what to call it, or how to explain it, other than just calling it pack. Even if it is insufficient somehow. 

“Why are you even here?” Derek turns to him, eyebrows set to Maximum Frustration. 

“Because I’m the only one who can work mountain ash,” Stiles starts listing reasons quickly, because he is that guy. “I can fire a gun, and I have wolfsbane bullets that you’ve clearly already sniffed out with that super sniffer of yours. Your disgusted looks every time you smell me are super obvious, dude. You have to work on that. How did you pass as human before you met little old me? You’re so wolfy.”

Laura looks as if she is trying so hard not to crack up at that, because once again Stiles has managed to touch on some inside joke or whatever. It’s crazy how many of those they have - he’d wonder if Laura isn’t just making fun of him, but he knows the difference between kind and not so kind laughter. This seems like it’s more at Derek’s expense. 

It usually is. Poor guy. 

“Really?” Derek’s eyebrows go into Sass Mode as he turns to Laura. “Really?”

Suck it Derek, the Alpha has already decided he’s in the pack. Derek just needs to learn to deal with that. At some point he’s going to accept Stiles as part of the family. 

“Take a good look in the mirror, Der-Bear,” Laura quips, and somehow that’s enough for Derek to pipe down. “When we get home, not now. Now we wait. Peter will come.” 

Laura is proven right about that rather quickly, which is all the more convenient for Stiles seeing as he technically has a curfew - even though his dad is currently on the night shift. But yeah, it only takes a couple of minutes for another man to enter the clearing - Stiles only recognizes him because Derek and Laura have made sure he would. 

The burns on his face are fading as Stiles watches, and it is gross and really fucking cool at the same time, like pretty much everything involving werewolves. But after years upon years, Peter Hale is finally healing because, what, he’s back with his pack? Is that really all it takes? And if so, Laura fucked up. She could have done this years ago. 

Stiles maybe gets why she didn’t, because she had a traumatized teen on her hands and she was barely an adult herself, but still. This is kind of fucked up. And sad. Mostly sad. 

“Laura,” Peter’s voice is very human, and very creepy. “Derek. Human m-.” 

“Don’t,” Derek growls. 

At least Stiles is being acknowledged - even though he is dying to find out what Peter was going to say before Derek interrupted, he is still happy that he is being recognized as a part of the pack. Even by the creepiest uncle he’s ever met. 

“Oh Derek,” Peter shakes his head. “Haven’t you learned?” 

It’s weird how silent Laura is at this point, and Stiles is kinda angry that she isn’t going to defend Derek’s judgment here. Sure, she can be a shit about him all she wants when it’s just the three of them, but not when they’re faced with a potential threat. Even though the potential threat can be pack if he just gets his head out of his ass. 

“Hey asshole,” Stiles distracts Peter Hale from Derek, because that’s the kind of thing he’s good at. “Wheaton’s law. Means don’t be a dick. Especially not to your family. You can’t have that much of a boner for the Alpha power. I mean, if you, we’ll deal. But it would be better if you don’t. Because killing family is wrong, capiche?” 

That just makes the man laugh, loudly. Genuinely even, with only a hint of malice. Suddenly it’s super obvious that this guy is related to Laura. 

“Oh Derek,” Peter continues to laugh, but doesn’t respond to Stiles directly. “You’re a very lucky guy. You’ve got your work cut out for you.” 

Why is Peter turning to Derek when Stiles is the one insulting him? What does Derek have to do with Stiles’ wonderful attitude towards a murdering asshole? Seriously, Stiles doesn’t like this guy, at all, and he is starting to seriously consider those Molotov cocktails. 

“Rude,” Stiles is the idiot who actually tries to get a morally ambiguous werewolf’s attention. 

“Stiles,” Derek tries to distract him from Peter. 

“Yes Der-Bear?” He has to use that stupid nickname because it will make Laura laugh. “I think you’re great too, but this is not the time. I have beef with your Creepy Uncle.” 

His heartbeat probably reveals that he really thinks Derek is great, and that’s kind of annoying and giving Creepy Peter too much ammunition and giving Laura something else to make fun of Derek for, but it’s already out now - no taking it back.

“How about I go first?” Laura is smiling as she steps forward. 

Her eyes are bright red again - Alpha red, he knows now. Peter’s flash bright blue in return, and when he takes a glance at Derek, he sees Derek’s wolf eyes are blue as well. Laura already explained to him what that color means, not wanting him to ask Derek outright - and for some reason, it isn’t as appealing on Peter as it is on Derek. Peter’s blue is all ice, and Derek’s… is like lightning, like electricity, like a spark of something. They seem warmer, somehow. Especially when he’s looking at Stiles. 

But holy shit that is not something he should even be considering, especially not now. 

“Laura,” Peter’s face is just… blank. 

And it’s fucking creepy. 

“Uncle Peter,” Laura’s pleasant smile is completely fake, and everyone can tell. “How about we discuss your place in the pack? I kind of have a no murdering rule, and you’re pretty close to breaking it already. I healed, luckily, but you wouldn’t want my death on your hands, would you?” 

She tilts her head at the end there, and Stiles is just so fucking impressed by her, standing up to a man who is still likely to kill her. Standing up to one of the few family members she still has, even though she might have to hurt or kill him if he continues on the path he’s chosen. Laura Hale is a fucking badass and Stiles is so happy to call her both his friend and his Alpha. 

He turns to Derek, to see if he feels it too, and he sees that Derek’s shifted, claws out and ready to protect his sister with his life. 

It all depends on Peter now. The Preserve is quiet as they stand in a tableau, completely still as they wait for the answer that’ll tell them if blood must be shed. 

“You win,” Peter sighs, sounding bored already. “Alpha. You are your mother’s daughter.”

That is too easy, Stiles knows it is. He turns to Derek again, trying to see if Derek’s back to human. He’s not. That means it isn’t over. 

Laura is still standing there, waiting for something. 

Nobody moves for seconds, that turn into minutes, and then between one heartbeat and the next, Peter is shifted and lashing out at Laura. The claws are out, and so are the fangs, and if Laura hadn’t been anticipating it, Peter surely would have hit her. 

Derek has jumped to her rescue right away, because of course Stiles is the only one even remotely surprised by this turn of events. Still he grabs one of the containers of flammable liquid and waits for the wolves to separate - his aim isn’t great, but they’re not that far away, and while he may not be able to control where he hits Peter, he knows he can hit him if necessary. He’s been practicing - this is way more useful than lacrosse. 

And okay, maybe it’ll improve his lacrosse skills as well and Lydia will finally remember his name - but that’s not the priority here. He doesn’t think. 

Stiles adjusts his grip on the Molotov cocktail and almost drops it when Laura suddenly roars so loud that he worries he’s gone deaf. Even Derek seems to flinch slightly, but Peter gets the brunt of it, and somehow that has the effect they’ve all been waiting for: Peter falls to his knees and exposes his neck in deference to the Alpha. 

Fucking finally. 

“Stiles,” Derek growls. 

Oh fuck, well he definitely said that out loud. His bad. 

“This is going to be fun,” Peter clearly has the wrong idea of fun. 

Stiles doesn’t let go of the Molotov cocktail. Just in case. 

* * *

Their pack of four (Stiles and the Hale Wolves would be an awesome indie band name, no matter what Derek complains about) turns into a pack of five rather quickly, with John Stilinski’s relatively easy acceptance of the supernatural world. 

Turns out, his dad is a badass (which he’s known for most of his life) and he didn’t just get his supernatural research skills from his mother (which he was not aware of until now). Which is kind of the best surprise - Stiles and his Dad are hopelessly past due on some father-son bonding, and Stiles believes that this could be it. 

It does turn out to be a great help, and time passes quickly. The pack grows, with the addition of Erica (Stiles couldn’t watch her suffer if there was something that could be done), Isaac (Derek was this close to killing Isaac’s father for what he did), and Boyd (who figured it out and offered his help). Scott got the offer, and then rejected it - something Derek has never quite been able to forgive him for. 

And now there’s Jackson too, because apparently Peter Hale couldn’t keep it in his pants and the douchebaggery is completely genetic. Next month, on Jackson’s birthday, he’ll get the offer as well - that and his birth family back. What’s left of it. 

Right now, it’s Stiles’ moment though. He’s eighteen, finally, and the party is everything he ever wanted: the entirety of his pack around the large dinner table at the Hale House, too much food even for a pack of werewolves, and tons of presents he’s not supposed to peek at yet. 

Lydia still doesn’t remember his name, but he doesn’t really give a fuck about that these days. He’s got someone else on his mind. 

“Happy eighteenth birthday Stiles,” Peter creepily grins at him over their curly fries. “You're legal now. Good thing, because my idiot nephew has been waiting for his mate for two years and I fear it’s affected his already limited intelligence.” 

Say what now? That is not the birthday present he’d been expecting - it might actually be better. 

“Damn it Peter,” Derek swears, the tips of his ears bright red. 

Cleary Derek has some ‘splaining to do. 

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I'll explore the mates thing in the sequel. Which I'll maybe write. Eventually.


End file.
